


We Were Kidding Ourselves, Alright (We Were Only Kids Last Night)

by themoviesinourdreams



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Childhood Friends, F/M, Friends to Lovers, High School, M/M, Teenage Drama, dama club
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-27 11:08:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21391153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themoviesinourdreams/pseuds/themoviesinourdreams
Summary: Louis is not Sweeney Todd, which is good because he would probably throw himself off a building if he had to play the lead in a school musical. No, Louis’s been cast as Anthony, and Harry Styles is playing Sweeney Todd.Louis knows Harry Styles. Louis thinks about endless summers spent outside with a curly haired boy, in front of a white-bricked house down the street from his own. He remembers a big for sale sign sitting in the yard of that same house, and, guiltily now, an argument between the two thirteen year-olds. They haven’t spoken since.OR the one where Louis loses a bet and has to audition for the school musical where he falls back in love with his childhood best friend
Relationships: Danny Jones/Original Female Character(s), Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Niall Horan/Original Female Character(s), Zayn Malik/Liam Payne
Kudos: 50





	We Were Kidding Ourselves, Alright (We Were Only Kids Last Night)

**Author's Note:**

> yo yo yo party people, this idea has been rolling around in my head for forever so i finally wrote it (yay?). this is totally unedited so feel free to to point out any mistakes :)
> 
> love u all hope you enjoy it
> 
> also it's sweeney todd bc harry would make a super hot sweeney todd

Louis is afraid of very little, at least, he likes to believe so.

Sure, something happening to one of his sisters is pretty high up on the list. And spiders. And heights. White foods, (sour cream, especially – yuck!). Dolphins. The Pacific Ocean (every C is pronounced differently, like what’s up with that?) Nuclear war. Taxes. Russia. Anti-vaxxers. Scratch-and-stiff stickers, (due to a positively _traumatizing _event as a child).

But the thing that takes the cake is public speaking. Louis doesn’t even know why he agreed to this stupid fucking bet in the first place. (Probably because he was so sure he’d win). He’d taken bets from all the members of the football team on how long their coach could monologue about his glory days unprompted. The answer was an hour and forty-seven minutes twenty two seconds, and Danny Jones had won a Target gift card that still had a $2.88 on it.

Louis had been the most far off. (Let’s not talk about it). And, as punishment, he had to audition for the school <strike>play</strike> _musical_. It’s _Sweeney Todd_, which Louis has seen, actually, and he likes the whole murder and turning people into meat pies thing. What he _doesn’t _like is the fact that he’s standing in front of Ms. Kruse, with the entire varsity football team sitting in the row behind her, waiting with bated breath to hear him perform.

Ms. Kruse had been shocked and delighted when he’d shown up for auditions.

“_Louis Tomlinson_!” She’d shouted, spotting him sitting by himself in the back of the auditorium, trying desperately to turn invisible. “What are you doing in my auditorium?”

He knew Ms. Kruse, if only from fulfilling his fine arts requirement sophomore year, when he’d skipped class most days to smoke behind the school. “Uh,” he rubbed the back of neck, sheepishly, “I’m here to audition. For, the, uh, show.” It’s not a question, but Louis says it like one, his voice rising in pitch on the last two words.

“You’re auditioning? That’s _wonderful_! _Absolutely wonderful_!” Her enthusiasm takes Louis by surprise, before realization hits him like a bus. He’s _Louis Tomlinson_, MVP of the championship winning football team for the past three years, _Louis Tomlinson_, homecoming king, his name means people will come see the show, a revival, if you will, for the long-dead theatre company. Louis’s still surprised that his name holds so much weight, although he should probably be used it by now.

“Yeah,” he gnawed on his thumb absently, nearing ripping the nail completely off. “Can I go last?”

He regrets asking it now, because while it gave him time to run to his car, and stay there for the subsequent panic attack, it also gave time for the entirety of the football team to arrive. He’d figured that the other theatre students wouldn’t want to wait around to watch him, but there they are, roughly thirty kids, dressed in all black, sitting near the back of the theatre, glaring at Louis because he is out of place here, in his dirty bright red football uniform, here to steal their roles, not because he’s talented, but because his name means tickets will get sold. He scans their faces for the only one he knows, but he doesn’t see the familiar green eyes. His heart falls, and he doesn’t know why.

“Uh,” Louis starts, “I’m Louis Tomlinson and I’ll be singing happy birthday.” The football team hoots with laughter, but the theatre kids’ glares get more intense, if that’s possible. “I dunno who wrote it. So, yeah. Here we go.”

Louis’s singing is fine. Most of the team knows this, because he sings in the showers after games, and in his car with the windows rolled down on the way home. So, in a way, he’s glad he lost the bet because as difficult as it is for him, Louis knows it would be a million times worse for Jack Peloski or David Wright, who sound like dying cats when they try to sing.

After Louis finishes singing happy birthday to Leonardo Dicaprio (it actually is his birthday), Ms. Kruse hands him a sheet of paper. Louis holds it like a crying child, and stares at it, incredulously.

“What’s this?”

The theatre kids laugh this time. Like, this asshole doesn’t know shit. Which is true, but Louis can feel his ears turning red. “It’s a monologue,” Ms. Kruse says gently, “I just need you to read it for me, and then you can go home.”

“Alright, I guess.” Louis reads it with bravado, in an attempt to spite the theatre kids, to prove his competence. It doesn’t really work, because he stumbles over the word “this” twice, which makes him look dense(r than he already does).

“Thank you, to everyone who auditioned!” Ms. Kruse says cheerily, when Louis’s finished, with a pointed look in his direction. “If that’s everyone,” she looks pleadingly at the other members of the football team who sink low in their seats and stare at the ground, “then have a great day.” She sighs. “The cast list will be up later this week.”

\----

Louis is not Sweeney Todd, which is good because he would probably throw himself off a building if he had to play the lead in a school musical. No, Louis’s been cast as Anthony, and Harry Styles is playing Sweeney Todd.

Louis knows Harry Styles. Louis thinks about endless summers spent outside with a curly haired boy, in front of a white-bricked house down the street from his own. He remembers a big for sale sign sitting in the yard of that same house, and, guiltily now, an argument between the two thirteen year-olds. They haven’t spoken since.

Harry wasn’t at the auditions. Louis wonders why not, and, out of nowhere, a pang of longing hits his chest. Where the fuck did that come from? He should call Danny. Danny, his best friend. Maybe Harry was, at one point, a long time ago, but now it’s Danny, and Louis promised to let Danny know what happened when the cast list came out.

“Hey,” Danny answers after half a ring. “What’s the verdict?”

“I’m Anthony.” Louis says. Danny is silent for a minute, and Louis realizes that Danny has no fucking clue what that means. “He’s supporting cast. Uh…” it’s been years since Louis’s watched this stupid movie, “he’s in love with Johanna, I think, which is Sweeney’s daughter. It’s a complicated show mate, I’m not gonna explain it over the phone.”

“’S alright. I’ll figure it out when I come see it.” Louis groans. Fuck. He forgot the part where he actually had to perform the show in front of an audience. “Do you wanna go see the new Batman at 7?”

“Sure.”

Danny hangs up and Louis scans over the rest of the cast list. He recognizes the names of Harry’s entire lunch group (not that he pays attention to Harry’s lunch group). Zayn Malik is the broody kid who sits behind Louis in anatomy, Niall Horan is the Irish foreign exchange student who cheated off Louis in physics junior year (they both almost failed), and Jodie Caster who’s older brother played goalkeeper on the varsity team when Louis was a freshman and he was a senior.

\----

Louis is twenty minutes late to the first rehearsal, which his probably not a good thing since he’s pretty sure the majority of the theatre kids already hate him. Not that he cares what they think. But, rehearsal is immediately after football practice, and Louis figured showing up in his muddy uniform (again) would be bad form. Instead he’s wearing a pair of black skinny jeans and grey long sleeved shirt. He feels entirely out of place.

Harry Styles is on the stage with a girl from Louis’s English class. He’s pretty sure her name starts with E. Erin? He gives a Harry a sheepish wave and a half smile. Harry grins back. The E-girl (Emily?) shoots Louis a dirty look.

She’s (Elizabeth?) opening her mouth to say something when Louis’s intercepted by Ms. Kruse.

“Oh, Louis, I’m so happy that you’re here.” It sounds like she really means it.

“Sorry I’m late,” and he is, “I wanted to change after practice.”

“That’s quite alright dear, I’ll start scheduling rehearsals later. I don’t want to interfere with practice or anything, Coach Sessions would have my head.”

Louis wonders when his life turned into a High School Musical rip off. “Thanks,” he says, sheepishly, “that means a lot.”

“Now, you missed the introductory meeting, and right now I’m working with Harry and Elaine-” Elaine! “but I’m sure, Jodie would be happy to get you up to speed.” Ms. Kruse motions to the dark-haired girl telling a lewd joke to Niall Horan two rows in front of them. “Jodie don’t finish that sentence.”

Her face flushes bright red, and she turns to Louis and Ms. Kruse. “Sorry Kruse, of course I’ll catch Louis up. Let’s go to the classroom.”

She pulls through a door to the drama classroom, where a group of students sit sketching costume designs. They wave at Jodie, and nod indifferently to Louis. They sit down at the table farthest from the costumers, and Jodie hands him a fat script.

“Don’t worry about Elaine,” is the first thing out of her mouth, “she’s a bitch. Theatre purist and all. Most of us are happy that you’re here. Lord knows we could use a decent audience for once. Of course, Harry won’t shut u-” Jodie catches herself and bites her lip, “you’re gonna want to highlight all of your lines. I’m your love interest, so we could, like, make out or something if you want.” She laughs when Louis blanches. “I’m kidding. I know you’re not into that.”

It’s not a secret that Louis is gay, but it still feels weird coming out of a relative stranger’s mouth. But he likes Jodie; he can’t help it. “Maybe later,” he says, “What else do I need to know?”

\----

For the rest of the week, Louis makes it his business to avoid Elaine. This means he avoids Harry, too, although not intentionally. It seems like the two of them are joined at the hip. He wonders if they’re together, and the idea puts a sharp pain in his heart. He pushes the thought out of his mind.

Instead, he spends rehearsals with Jodie and Niall, who are together but “secretly” (possibly the worst kept secret in the entire world), because Ms. Kruse doesn’t approve of intra-theatre relationships, and Zayn, when he’s not skipping to work on his art project. Louis realizes that he’s surrounding himself with Harry’s closest friends, but he likes to pretend that it has nothing to do with the fact that they’re Harry’s friends, and everything to do with them being nice and friendly, which they are.

It’s Friday, and the four of them are hiding in the girls’ dressing room, having a competition to see who can chug the case of water bottles left in there from March of last year, when Elaine had forgotten to put them on the UIL one-act play bus, the fastest. Louis knows he’s got this in the bag because he is champion water-chugger on the football team. He’s downing his fourth bottle, when the dressing room door bangs open, and Louis subsequently spills half a bottle of water on his favorite shirt.

“Thought I’d never escape her,” the voice is familiar, rich and calm and slow, with the ability to lull Louis to sleep like a security blanket of sound. Louis begins to choke on the water left in his mouth.

“What the _fuck_,” he says, when he’s done spitting water out into the wig sink, and his lungs have recovered from the near death experience. Harry looks adequately worried, handing Louis a roll of paper towels (seemingly from out of thin air). “You can’t just barge in here like that, mate. You almost gave me a conniption.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry scratches the back of his neck and looks at Louis’s water drenched frame with warm eyes. A now familiar pang of longing hits Louis in the chest, and he shakes his head to get rid of it. Water goes everywhere and Harry laughs loudly. “I’m happy that you’re here. But, uh, why are you here, if it’s alright to ask?”

“It’s fine. I lost a fucking bet, ‘s all, I didn’t discover a passion for musical theatre or anything, that’s always been your domain, Haz.” The nickname rolls off Louis’s unthinking tongue. His face flushes. “Sorry, didn’t mean to call you that. It’s just habit, I guess.”

Harry laughs again. “You’re good, Lou, it’s been a while since I’ve heard that one. These twats have their own barrage of shitty nicknames for me, and none of them are quite that nice.”

Niall scoffs loudly. “I quite ‘two-time tit wanker’, thank you very much.”

Louis raises an eyebrow as Harry’s face goes adequately red. “My favorite was always ‘Harry Styles: legal and just killed a fucking seagull,’” Zayn offers, Louis laughs and turns to Jodie.

“What’s yours?”

“I was always fond of, ‘Scary Harry 2: Electric Boogaloo,’” they’re all laughing now, and after very little prompting from Louis, Niall tells him how Harry received all of his many nicknames.

“So, freshman year, we all had bit parts in that year’s musical, uh, Annie, I think-”

“Cinderella,” Jodie corrects.

“That’s what I _said_, Dear,” he sticks his tongue out at her, childishly, “_anyway_, we wrapped up our closing performance, and we went to some senior’s shitty house party-”

“Cody Bronson,” Jodie supplies, helpfully. Niall glares at her.

“Will you let me tell the story?” Jodie rolls her eyes, and whispers an apology. Niall kisses her fondly. “So we’d just spent four weeks of this entire show process getting to know each other pretty intimately, right. So we go to this party, and Elaine, who’s always been a huge dick is there, and she had a thing for Harry back then-”

“Still does,” Harry mutters.

“Shut up, I’m talking. So Elaine is really pushy and somehow convinces him to go upstairs with her, even though Harry was totally – well, never mind that – so they go upstairs together, and they go up to Cody’s sister’s bedroom, and they’re there for all of five minutes, if that, before Harry runs out and sprints down the stairs with Elaine chasing after him, shouting at the top of his lungs, ‘I TOUCHED YOUR TITS TWICE ALREADY, I’M DONE! I’M GAY! I REALIZED I’M GAY! I NEVER WANT TO DO THAT AGAIN!’”

The room erupts with laughter, even Harry, and Louis catches his eye and smiles. “So has Elaine not gotten the message yet, or what?”

“She’s delusional mate; she found I was going for Sweeney, and threated to kill anyone who tried out for Lovett.” (Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett are lovers in the show).

“Right,” Jodie shivers, “So now I’m stuck playing Johanna, and Mrs. Lovett is a pitchy bitch who can’t dance for shit.”

“What about the Seagull st-” But before Louis can finish, the dressing room door is slammed open.

“Louis,” Elaine sneers, “Kruse wants to work with you and _Caster_,” she spits. As they turn to leave, Elaine calls – “_Caster I heard what you said, watch your fucking back._”

“Don’t worry about her,” Jodie says, putting a comforting hand on Louis’s arm. “Elaine’s all bark and no bite, well, not after I kicked her ass sophomore year.”

“What happened sophomore year?”

“I got the part she wanted in the UIL one-act play, so she started spreading nasty rumors about me, telling everyone I had chlamydia and shit. No one believed her because like, Niall and I’ve been together forever, but then she starting to make up shit about my brother and why he left school. So, in the parking lot after rehearsal, I told her if she had something to say she could say it to my face, and she just went off about my entire family and she doesn’t know _shit_, so I punched her the face and then I couldn’t stop,” she sighs. “Got suspended for three days for it, but her face was busted up for three whole weeks. We had to get someone to fill in for her part because she couldn’t perform.”

She smiles, and catches Louis’s unasked question. “My brother left college to take care of my after our father died. He didn’t do drugs, or flunk out, or get expelled for making a sex tape with an underage girl. He’s a really great guy and it bothers me when people say things about him.”

“I knew him. Great football player,” Louis offers, uncomfortably.

“Okay, I told you that, now you gotta tell me something. Why did you and Harry stop being friends?”

“Uh-”

\----

It’s not that simple, really.

Harry had moved into the house down the street in the middle of fourth grade. He sat in front of Louis in class, and he had the most wonderful collection of erasers. Everyday Louis would sit on his heels waiting to see which eraser Harry would pick from his collection.

One day, Louis found a football eraser in his desk. He figured Harry must’ve dropped it, and someone put it in his desk by accident, so he tapped Harry on the shoulder.

“Hey,” Louis said, “I think you dropped it.”

“No,” said Harry, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “I bought it for you.”

“It’s not my birthday.”

Harry smiled. “That’s okay. I thought you’d like it since you always look at mine.”

And then they were best friends.

It was easy to be friends with Harry, but, then again, most friendships are easy when you’re nine. They rode their bikes all over the neighborhood, going on all kinds of fantastic adventures. They had sleepovers with no sleeping at all, just late night walking back and forth to each other’s houses. They watched movies and made prank calls and tried to build a tree fort and bake cookies, and Louis told Harry of his dreams to be a football star, and Harry talked about his passion for musicals.

And then, halfway through eighth grade, Harry’s mom had just up and left. Harry was afraid to lose anyone else, Louis knows now, and closed himself off from everyone – including Louis. Louis didn’t – couldn’t – understand what Harry was doing, so he incited a string of fights between the two.

And one fight ended without their usual apologetic laughter, and the realization of how stupid they were being, but with Louis telling Harry that maybe they just shouldn’t talk anymore, and he slammed the door on the way out.

And Harry didn’t call, and the for sale sign went up in their yard, and they started high school, and Louis made the varsity football team freshman year, befriending Danny and Liam, and let himself be vaulted into the most popular circle, and Harry joined the drama club and performed in shows and found solace in Jodie and Niall and Zayn.

\----

Louis is sitting in Jodie’s Ford Fusion because he didn’t have time to finish the story after Ms. Kruse started making them actually rehearse.

“I’m happy now,” Louis says, although he sounds anything but, “but I miss Harry too, sometimes. I don’t know, maybe auditioning for this stupid musical was a blessing in disguise.”

“Trust me,” Jodie puts the car in drive and makes her way across the school to the athletic parking lot, “Harry misses you too. But,” she lets out a long low sigh, “listen, Harry is my best friend, and he would kill me if he knew I told you this, but he likes you – like in a romantic sense, and if you don’t like him back I think it’s best for you to just let him down gently so he can finally get off this fucking Louis boat. No offense,” she adds, halfheartedly.

“He – he _what_?”

“He hasn’t shut up about you since freshman year, and now you’re _back_, and it’s gotten about a million times worse. The boy loves you, and you’re not making it any easier for him.”

“Okay. I’ll – I’ll let him know.” Louis’s voice is weak.

He sits in his own car, fingers resting over the ignition. Jodie says that Harry loves him. Jodie says that Louis needs to let him down gently. But what if, what if he doesn’t _want _to let Harry down gently. What if he wants to do the exact opposite of that?

\----

It’s lunchtime, and instead of joining Danny and Liam on the bleachers like he normally does, Louis plops down in the seat across from Harry. The rest of the cafeteria table looks up in astonishment, it’s _Louis Tomlinson_, after all, and Louis hasn’t set foot in the cafeteria since freshman year, and now here he is again, sitting with the _drama club _kids of all people.

Harry looks up in mild surprise.

“Elaine doesn’t sit here, does she?”

“No, she has C lunch,” Zayn offers, because Harry has seemingly gone mute. Jodie, on the other hand, grabs his wrist painfully and drags Louis out of the cafeteria.

“_Are you a fucking sadist or something_?” Jodie screams, after they’re well out of earshot, and she’s let go of Louis’s, now sore, wrist. “This is _not _letting him down gently. This is making it a million times worse. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Jodie-”

“No, you listen to me-”

“Jodie-”

“Interrupt me one more time, I-” It’s too late, Harry has come up behind her and rests a hand on her shoulder. Jodie practically jumps out of her skin.

“Don’t do that, Jesus!”

“Sorry,” Harry looks at the pair, cofounded. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Louis shoots Jodie a meaningful look, “just having a chat about the, uh, weather. Pretty nice today, isn’t it?” Harry looks even more bewildered, if that is possibly. This is probably because they are currently having torrential rain. “That was a shit lie, wasn’t it? I’m shit at lying.” Jodie opens her mouth, but Louis grabs her wrist and pulls her behind him, effectively shutting her up. “Do you want to go out sometime? This weekend, maybe?”

Harry’s smile is brighter than the fucking sun. Louis never wants it to go away.

“Of course, Lou. I’d love that.”

\----

They go to McDonald’s, which is hardly romantic but the pair had waited so long, it probably doesn’t matter.

“So,” Louis starts, awkwardly, “what’ve you been up to?”

“Do you want to hear about how I got the nickname Harry Styles: legal and just killed a fucking seagull?” Louis laughs and after that it’s not awkward anymore.

And Harry tells Louis everything, about how Harry’s pretty much been in love with since the fourth grade and he bought him a football eraser because he thought it would get Louis to start talking to him, and he couldn’t believe it when it actually _worked. _

About how it felt when his mom left, and if she couldn’t love him, then how could Louis, (and it absolutely breaks Louis’s heart) so he just let Louis go and he didn’t call, and they moved to an apartment and Jodie was his downstairs neighbor. And for months, all Harry would talk about was Louis.

And Louis tells him about how, for the longest time, Louis couldn’t talk to _anyone_, because losing Harry in his life was the hardest thing he’d ever experienced, and he tells Harry about losing his virginity freshman year to a girl at a football party, and the whole time he was just imagining Harry.

Harry takes his hand and pulls him into his Buick and they have sex in the McDonald’s parking lot.

\----

It’s opening night, and for the first time in _years_ the auditorium has completely sold out. The entirety of the football team (both Varsity and JV) take up full four rows, and the rest are there because it’s _Louis Tomlinson _and they want to see him fail at something for once.

He doesn’t though.

Yeah, the first song is kind of rough, but Harry’s right there and he gets Louis through it. But after that, it’s smooth sailing. He and Jodie have great on-stage chemistry, and all of the emotional moments really _hit._ Plus he gets to watch Harry on stage, and he makes a very sexy murderer.

After the show, they go out for a very late dinner at iHop, and Louis introduces Danny and Liam to his newfound friend group. Zayn makes sure he’s sitting in the chair next to Liam at all times, which everyone finds hilarious, and Danny hits it off with everyone right away.

Elaine throws herself on Harry the entire night, until Harry finally says, “Elaine fucking stop. I’m never going to be into you,” and she ends up calling her sister to give her a ride home.

Harry takes Louis home in his Buick and they make out in front of Louis’s house, and Harry tells Louis that he loves him. And Louis says it back. And he really, really means it.

**Author's Note:**

> this was the same amount of words as money jeff bezos makes in a year


End file.
